Return to Origins
by Lluvia-the-Wolfgirl
Summary: Travis Grady is on a gig when he gets sidetracked by rescuing a girl from a burning house. But when he wakes up, he's in town and the girl is gone. Cheryl Mason is on a trip with her dad, but when they make a pit stop, weird things start happening, and they're separated. Travis and Cheryl both start trying to find a way out- and then they find each other. Based on Origins, 1, and 3
1. Chapter 1

prologue

He had a headache, and all the noise inside the store- pointlessly loud conversations and a radio blaring something that was supposed to be music- wasn't helping.

So Travis paid for his coffee and walked out. It was a cool morning- early enough that most people were still in their beds. It wasn't cold, but it was cool enough that the warm cup of coffee in his hands felt nice. He leaned against the wall of the building and looked up. The stars were just beginning to fade away in the timid sun's light, the weather was good, and it was a beautiful morning, but…

Travis shook his head.

Something one of his buddies had said to him was sticking in his head. They'd been talking about the fact that he didn't have a girlfriend, and his buddy had oh so helpfully suggested it had something to do with the dreams.

Ever since he could remember, he'd had dreams. Nightmares that made him wake up screaming… but once he was awake, he couldn't tell you what they were about or anything.

But lately…they'd been becoming more and more frequent. And while he still couldn't have told you what they were about, what had caused them…fragments of them he could remember now, as if they were etching themselves in his head. The sound of a child crying-a teddy bear lying abandoned on the cold cement floor-a house on fire- a playground, empty and abandoned, except for a single girl on a swing…

Travis shook his head, then quickly drained the last of his coffee and strode towards his truck.

Dreams didn't matter- they were just fleeting things that came in the night and then disappeared. It didn't make a difference that the image of the girl on the swing- blurry and unrecognizable but still screaming for his attention- wouldn't go away.

Time to get back to the things that were real.

OoOoOoOo

_ Looking up, looking across to where he was sitting, knees up to his chest and his head bowed…the teddy bear lay in the middle of the floor between them. _

_ She wanted to open her mouth and say something, but she couldn't. Everything felt strange- far away and heavy enough to break her apart._

_ Footsteps, loud and heavy. The door opened, and a pair of feet, adult feet were revealed. She couldn't see them, not really, not from underneath the table where she was hiding. She wished the boy would come hide with her, but she couldn't call to him-_

_ He didn't move, not until the feet came into the room and pulled him to his feet, neither roughly nor gently, and guided him to the door. Before it shut, he paused, as if he'd looked back at her, but the table was blocking her view of him now too._

_ The door shut._

_ The teddy bear had been left on the floor._

_ After sitting there a moment, she dragged herself to her feet and walked over to it, and gently picked it up and hugged it to her chest._

_ The bear was ragged and well loved…it smelled like him- like the boy._

_ She began walking. The door stretched upwards in front of her, but she didn't even look at it, and it swung open before she crashed into it. There was no way to tell where the boy had been taken, but she kept walking anyway. Like her feet knew, even though her head didn't. Going further down the hallway, past bars and strange rooms…she didn't even glance at any of them…she just kept walking and walking. _

_ The hallway turned, and she followed it. At the end, a single door. She stopped and looked up at it. After a moment, it opened. She walked inside._

_ -A barrage of images so fast- an assortment of voices mixed together to make nonsense- _

Cheryl opened her eyes and stared at the dark ceiling. That dream again. It'd been coming more and more often lately.

She'd heard that reoccurring dreams were normal, but all the ones she'd read about seemed to involve more of a reoccurring theme than an actual repetition of events. In her dreams, everything just repeated itself,

replaying over and over again. Although, once she was awake, details would fade. Despite all her time staring at the boy in the dream, she couldn't have told you what he looked like.

Speaking of waking up…Cheryl could hear the clatter of dishes that meant her father was awake and cooking breakfast. She sighed and got out of bed.

Time to start the day and forget about dreams that showed her a boy who would never appear. Besides, there was a lot of things still to be done in getting ready for their family vacation.

OoOoOoOo

And this is where the writer comes out and monologues!

Okay, first things first. I own nothing (duh). And secondly-this is one wacky AU. Things got tossed together in a slightly crazy way. I kinda like it though. This is why I'm posting it.

I warn you though. Not only are my fight scenes lacking, I like weird couples, and am very attached to my happy endings (or, at least, semi-happy or bittersweet that are heavy on the sweet endings).

Also, the layout of the town and the buildings may be completely off, as may some other things. I apologize for that (unless it's one of the those things that changed as a result of this being an AU).

Anyway, enough prattling. I hope you all enjoy this story, and would greatly appreciate any reviews.


	2. Chapter 2

There was no moon tonight.

It wasn't a big deal, really. Travis just liked being able to see the moon as he drove. His headlights were bright enough though, and Travis was experienced and made sure not to go too fast anyway, but seeing the moon was almost like seeing a friendly face.

On the other hand, he was the only one on the road, the rain was making soothing sounds as it fell, and he was making good time, so he should be able to take a short break once he reached Brahms. He'd get some coffee, or maybe snatch a quick nap in his cab by the side of the road…it was a good night.

What made it better was that he'd finally managed to get off the radio. He liked Dan, which was one of the main reasons why the other man was his oldest friend. But the fact that Dan was the oldest of six kids meant that he had an overprotective streak a mile wide, and the fact that he was a cop didn't help any. It was just how he showed he cared, but Travis was a grown man-

Travis realized that he was drumming one finger against the steering wheel and made himself stop.

The nice thing about old friends was that they already knew your deep dark secrets. The bad thing about old friends was they knew about your deep dark secrets and the demons that went with them, and if they were like Dan, worried that they were hiding under your bed and were just waiting for you to stick your foot out so they could grab your foot and drag you under.

Travis slowed, peering ahead into the darkness to make sure it was safe before turning onto the next road. He'd never taken this route before- the guy who normally took it had gotten sick. It was a nice night, but Travis didn't feel like getting lost and getting his pay docked because the shipment was late.

Actually, now that he thought about it, this latest idea from Dan seemed more like a Laura idea than a Dan idea.

Dan's wife was almost as much of a mother hen as he was- although she wasn't an oldest child, but her mother had died when she was very young, and she'd spent a lot of time helping her father until he'd died. More to the point, she'd also taken some psychology classes and she was worried that Travis didn't have enough of a social life.

He had a fine amount of social life. He had a number of friends, and he spent almost as much time at Dan and Laura's as he did at his own place-

_ "You're gone a lot and you work too much- and have you changed anything about that house since your grandparents died?"_

Travis snorted. Of course he'd changed things- it was a house, not a shrine. He'd packed away his baby book and various pictures of him and hid them up in the attic. He'd gone through their papers and thrown everything that wasn't important anymore, which was most of it. He'd even taken some of their things- like that one pig statue that his grandma had owned that he'd always secretly hated- and packed them away in the attic too. So what if it was true that he hadn't given the house a major overhaul? For the most part, he'd liked the way his grandparents had set it up.

_ "I know they're the ones who raised you, but that doesn't mean that it's disloyal for you to change things."_

_ "I know that Laura."_ he'd told her then. _"it's just that I like things the way they are. Besides, isn't arranging things in the house a female thing anyway?"_

He'd heard Dan laughing, and he could almost hear Laura rolling her eyes as she told him not to say that to anyone else- some people would take that the wrong way. Travis had retorted that some people took anything and everything the wrong way, and after going back and forth about that for a little bit, he'd signed off.

Travis loved his friends, he really did, but they needed to stop worrying about him. Which was one of the reasons he tried to avoid talking his dreams with them.

The rain was beginning to drop off- probably a good thing. While the soothing sound was nice, having the roads dry would make driving easier.

There was a sign coming up by the side of the road. Happy to get away from thoughts that were going in circles, Travis focused on the sign instead.

"Welcome to Silent Hill."

Silent Hill? Oh yeah, that small town close to Brahms- he'd seen it on the map he'd studied before he'd left. He must be close then-

-_Falling back as the door opened and __**something**__ rushed out-_

_ -Screaming as the hooded figure approached him and pulling at the straps that bound him-_

_ -Hiding under a table as pairs of feet passed, some not willingly, unsettling noises-_

_ -the door, but covered with police tape, opening the door to the room, all dark and in the middle, something __**swayed**_-

Travis shuddered and shook himself.

What was that? He hadn't dosed off, had he?

Movement by the side of the road and a girl, cloaked, stumbled out of the trees and the bushes and collapsed in the middle of the street.

Travis slammed on the breaks.

Tires screeched and the truck shook, but skidded to a stop and didn't fall over.

It came to a stop a short distance from the girl.

Travis breathed a sigh of relief. She was safe. He'd survived.

But what was she doing, running in the middle of the road like that?

Travis opened his door and stepped out and then forward so he could see in front of his truck.

No girl.

Travis jerked his head around, searching. What-where-she couldn't have just disappeared!

He took another couple of steps forward-when a chorus of voice crashed into his ears.

_ "When's Alessa coming back?"_

_ "He's probably going to fail anyways, but-_

_ "You're not going to be there when I wake up."_

_ "Hey, Travis-"_

"-over here."

A girl stepped out from in front of his truck.

_ That must be the girl from earlier. Funny, she looked taller with the cloak on. Where did it go anyway? And how did she-  
_

She was looking up at him, big wide eyes that weren't scared, but close.

"Are you okay?" Travis asked, holding out a hand and keeping his voice quiet, trying not to scare her.

She gave him one last long look before running away.

"Hey wait!" he chased her without thinking about it. A child wandering alone, after dark… It was just the right thing to do. At the very least, he needed to make sure that she got home safely.

There was a lot of fog on the road tonight- Travis had no idea where it had come from, but that wasn't the main thing on his mind right now- he lost sight of the girl pretty quickly in it but ran on, guided by worry and the fact that if he listened, he could hear her footsteps. She had to be just out of sight, right?

And then he began to smell it. And then he saw it, a big house, covered in flames.

"That's not fog, that's smoke!"

Motion caught his eye, at the side of the house, figures running to the back. Two children, too far away to see any details.

One of them was must be the girl though. He took a step closer, but-

"It's a beautiful fire, isn't it?"

Travis spun around to see a woman standing behind him- past shoulder length stringy hair and a strange smile and a strange, half familiar smell. She raised her arms up to the sky. "Such a beautiful fire. The only truly beautiful thing I've ever seen."

Travis decided that leaving and getting the cops was a good idea.

And then the woman lowered her arms and looked at him. And she looked…almost smug. Something seemed to shift, beneath his feet, in front of his eyes, but it passed and the woman kept talking. "She's still in there, you know."

A scream from somewhere inside the house. Travis spun to look at it, trying to figure out which part it'd come from.

"Are you going to rescue her, Travis?" the woman asked from behind him. "She's been waiting for you."

Another cry.

Travis kept his back to the woman, ignoring her and just ran into the house.

Someone needed help.

When he came through the door, a burst of voice assaulted his ears, so many, so fast, he couldn't make them out. He shook it off and looked around.

A soft sobbing noise, barely heard above the crackling flames. Travis followed it upstairs, moving quickly. Almost like his feet were following a path laid out already for him.

The stairs collapsed as he climbed them, but he made it to the top safely.

And then, he found her.

Just a kid, burned all over, not a patch of untouched skin-she looked up at him.

"Just let me burn." she said, quiet and resigned.

"Sorry, you're coming with me." Travis answered as he bent over and picked her up carefully. He started to carry her back to the stairs, but stopped as he remembered that they were broken.

The floor gave way beneath them but somehow, he managed to land on his feet and keep hold of the girl.

He ran for the door, through at least three rooms that blurred together in his head- he was just focusing on getting out, focusing on the small hand clutching at him, wrapped in his shirt.

He burst through the door and continued running, narrowly avoiding some burning debris as they fell.

The crazy woman was nowhere to be seen- neither were the two running kids.

He got to the edge of the yard-_that should be far enough-_things were getting kinda blurry-he coughed-too much smoke-he started to set her down gently.

"There. Safe now."

But she hadn't let go yet, and she was looking up at him.

"You came for me. Travis, you really came for me."

He smiled. "Yeah, I did."

And then he heard sirens coming. _That's good, they can help her-what's she saying? Can't hear you-_

The sirens were ringing in his ears, he couldn't think and topping backwards but still holding her-he managed to land with her on top of him-

And then Travis blacked out.

OoOoOoOo

Multiple traffic jams and lots of freight trains meant that things weren't going as planned.

Cheryl smothered a yawn as best she could. At least they were out of Portland now- the trees and hills around them, while certainly not exciting, were at least pleasant to look at. The fall leaves were as colorful as a picture, even though they were still clinging tightly to the trees for the most part.

"I thought you said you weren't going to stay up late last night?" her dad enquired teasingly from behind the steering wheel.

"I wasn't." Cheryl said, grinning, "except then my favorite author wanted me to go over his newest manuscript before he sent it in to his publisher." Even if he wasn't exactly well known, his books sold steadily and some of her classmates at school- the ones who liked reading and had better taste than the others- enjoyed reading her dad's books. In fact, Ann frequently raved over the latest one and had on more than one occasion declared that his sentence structure was sexy. While Cheryl very much enjoyed her father's books, she wasn't sure how that worked and wasn't even sure she wanted to know how. Sometimes Ann was just weird.

At least he refused to put photos on his book covers so that they didn't have a face to comment on- although one time her other friends had become to tease Ann about what "Owen West" might actually look like. Her sanity really could have done without her friends describing how sexy her father may or may not look. She had eyes, she knew that he wasn't bad looking and that women his age- and some not his age- were aware of it, but while he was friendly and enjoyed friendships of both genders, for the most part he seemed utterly uninterested in any romantic relationships. Which Cheryl felt guilty happy about, most of the time. She wanted him to be happy, of course, she was just happy that he wasn't interested. Her mother have have died a long time ago, but Cheryl still remembered her enough that imagining her dad with anyone else felt wrong. Not to mention the fact that her dad was the only family she had.

"He was too worried about whether his newest book is any good." she added out loud, trying to distract herself from that train of thought. "Even though that's silly, since all of his other books have been great."

Most of the time though, listening to her friends talk about her dad's books was amusing, and sometimes she even told her dad about them later. Cheryl would've enjoyed teasing them about the fact she got to read his books before they were even out, but that would've meant spoiling her dad's identity, which was the whole reason he wrote under a penname. So Cheryl resigned herself to just smirking when the others talked about him- and once in a while correcting them when they got the wrong idea.

"Well, while your favorite author appreciates that, he could've waited for you to get back and read it then."

"Yeah, but after everything you said about it, I was curious. Besides, even though I am slightly biased in your favor, I do think you're the best writer out there."

"Thanks honey, and you're the best first reader a writer could wish for. And with that said, you can go ahead and get some rest if you want. I'll just go ahead and think of ideas for my next novel-"

Cheryl mock scowled before leaned over and pretended to hit him. "No way! You're on vacation, remember?"

"Okay." her dad laughed as the train finally ended and began to pull away. "I guess I'll just listen to the radio then."

"Good luck getting that to work." Cheryl said, leaning back in her seat with a smile- writing wasn't the wealthiest job, not unless you were Steven King or J.K. Rowling, and there was a reason their faded blue car was affectionately referred to as "the Rustbucket", even if it wasn't quite that bad- and turning towards the window, figuring she might as well take her dad up on his offer-

Only sit back up suddenly, staring out the window and pressing one hand against the glass like that would help her see better-

"What is it?"

She heard her dad ask the question from behind her, but a moment she kept staring out the window. "I thought… I thought I saw something… but I can't see anything now… I guess it was just my imagination." she turned away from the window and smiled at him. "I guess I need sleep more than I thought." she said, trying to make a joke out of it, but his smile didn't seem all that amused.

"You sure?"

"Yeah- I mean, there's nothing there now." Cheryl said, for a moment surprised by the question, but then she smiled. "I don't think there's a sniper in a gilly suit up in the hills waiting for us, Dad."

He chuckled, but not as enthusiastically as he usually would. "Yeah, I'm sure you're right Cheryl. Go ahead and take that nap- I'll wake you when we get there, okay?"

"Okay Dad." Cheryl said, suppressing another yawn, and shutting her eyes before she could see anything else weird.

OoOoOoOo

Yeah, that part with Travis is pretty familiar isn't it? Nothing else in this is going to be quite that familiar.

Oh, and on pairings- nothing major. There's crushes, and hints of a crush mixed with friendly affection that could be developing into something more, but it's not all that blatant and you can ignore it if you want. Well, you can't ignore the crush, but you can ignore the hints that it might develop into something more in the future after this ends.

And I have commented that someone's sentence structure in real life is sexy. I also love his similes and metaphors and (swoons). I also like his appearance. ^^

Also, anyone who knows who used "Owen West" as a pen name for a while gets free imaginary cookies. Incidentally, he's not the same guy as the one I was just talking about.


	3. Chapter 3

_ He was crying- she heard him clearly, and that was what led her to him- even though everything was wrong and so far away, she still found him- _

_ She knew it was bad because he was crying- he was the oldest of them- he always tried so hard to be mature, to be adult- he always tried never to cry- _

_ She found him, and the room was dark, curtains pulled tightly tightly shut, so she couldn't really see anything but his silhouette- he was trying to talk to his momma, but she couldn't make out what he was saying- but that wasn't the most important thing anyway._

_ The room was filling up with something- something like air but wrong, wrong and hurting him._

_ It wasn't hurting her though, and that was wrong too- the things that hurt him were supposed to hurt her too, because they were the same- but there wasn't time for that._

_ The wrong air was hurting him really bad, so they needed to get rid of it. Things weren't right, were too far away- but she was with him again and that was right-_

_ The windows were shut tight- she flung herself at them- forcing them open, some of them breaking and shattering as the curtains flapped madly-_

_ The bad air started going out, but not quickly enough for her- she went back to him- then she noticed that his mom was in the room- she glared at her as she went past. She didn't like his mom- she made him feel bad all the time for no reason- she was a bad mom, and she hated her for making him feel bad. She wished the doctors would've kept her locked up…but if they had, maybe his daddy wouldn't have brought him here, and maybe they never would have meet- and that was too scary to think about-_

_ And now he was still feeling sick from the bad air and his mom was just sitting in her chair like nothing was wrong- wait, she was getting up now- hands out in front of her- heading straight for him- a scary look on her face-_

_ He was only just beginning to recover- still groggy, still just pushing himself off the ground, not even seeing her- and then she saw the red mark on his face- realized that his mom had hit him on top of everything else- she flung herself in between them- but her power was fading- she was feeling weak- but then he stumbled and flung his arms around her- wanting to protect her as she wanted to protect him- their power flowed together-_

_ The bad woman was shouting something that didn't make sense- but with the way her hands were held out, she was going to try to hurt them, right? They lashed out with their combined power, knocking her back and breaking even more windows- and then there was a knocking at the door- someone calling- the nice neighbor man, his voice sounding worried- and then the sirens came and they both collapsed- and then they were elsewhere._

_ It was at this point that she started to suspect that she was dreaming-but it was more of a vague suspicion and she couldn't really bring herself to care- things were no longer so far away, and she was an adult, they both were- they were adults and they were safe._

_ her hair was still black, but longer now. It was loose too, but she pulled it all to one side, letting it fall as she bent her head, hiding her face from the world, but not from the one (the boy who was now a man) whose head rested in her lap. Her hair was long enough that it curtained his face too, and it touched his shoulder._

_ Her fingers moved to rest on his cheeks. Maybe, even through his sleep, he felt them, because he smiled. _

_ This emboldened her. Leaning even further down, she was going to touch their foreheads together, but then his eyes opened and he looked at her._

_ She stopped._

_ He stared at her for a moment before smiling. "It's you." _

_ Then he was the one reaching, his hand moving up to her cheek-_

"Cheryl?"

She sat up so fast she almost smacked her head into the mirror.

"You okay?" her father asked her anxiously.

"Yeah, Dad. It was just a dream." Cheryl assured her father with a smile.

"About what?" Harry Mason asked curiously, glancing at her before looking back at the road.

"Nothing much. It was just me looking down at this guy who was sleeping." Cheryl paused, before sighing and going on. She decided to leave out a few embarrassing details though, not to mention the first part of the dream with its attempted murder of a child. "It was one of those dreams, the ones where you know people, but then you wake up and you don't. So I was looking down at this guy…I was feeling…very fond of him. And then he woke up. Recognized me too, I think. He smiled at me anyway." she found herself tugging at her hair- short and dyed blonde of course- before making herself stop. "And then I woke up. Thanks a lot Dad." Cheryl added the last part teasingly.

Harry chuckled. "Sorry, didn't know you were having such fun in your dreams. Was this guy of yours good looking?"

"…not really." Cheryl said thoughtfully. "I mean, it was dark, and it's all getting vague now, but he wasn't handsome. He did have a nice face though. A kind smile. Nice eyes…Dad?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't put this in one of your books, okay?"

Harry laughed. "Okay, I won't. Too bad, that was a nice description. I could almost-what?"

Cheryl looked at him, and then looked out the window in front of the car as it rolled to a stop.

The road ahead was blocked by a mess, a barricade of white and orange stripped signs with the word "detour" stamped all over.

"Oh, give me a break." Harry said, "The road looks fine!"

"Maybe there's a bridge out further down."

"There isn't a bridge on this road." Harry began looking around the car. "Cheryl, do you remember where I put the map?"

"Yeah, I think so." Cheryl said as she opened up the glove compartment and began rifling through it. "Yeah, here it is Dad."

"Thanks, Cheryl. Now, let's see, we're here…"

Cheryl glanced back towards the sign. "Hey Dad, it recommends going through some place called Silent Hill."

"It would." Harry muttered, without looking at it. "but if I have anything to say about it- Shepherd's Glen? Yeah, that'll work. Not too far away." he put the map down and began turning the car around.

"Dad, why don't you want to go to Silent Hill?" Cheryl asked curiously.

Her father was silent for a moment before saying, "let's just say…I've been there before."

Cheryl watched him for a moment more but then he switched on the radio and she realized that she wasn't going to hear anymore about it.

So Cheryl Mason sighed and looked out the window, resigning herself to not knowing the rest of the story. _

Travis jerked in his sleep and woke up suddenly, almost falling off the bench.

Where was he?

He got up and looked around.

Empty, misty streets. Town streets- mostly houses, but there were a few stores around too. How and when had he gotten here?

Maybe it was just left over from last night, but Travis thought he smelled a hint of smoke in the mist.

The park bench, where he'd been sleeping a moment ago, was along the side of the street. And across the street from it… was that the house he'd pulled the girl out of?

Travis stepped closer.

It looked like the same house and it had been through a fire. But it also looked like the fire had been a long time ago and after the fire was over, no one had come back to it. Not to mention that the surroundings were totally different-

"Admiring the old Gillespie house?"

Travis turned his head to see a man walking down the street towards him. He was running one hand through his dark hair, and his glasses hid his eyes. He came to a stop a short distance away from Travis- crossed his arms over an usually formal brown vest.

"Gillespie house?" Travis repeated- the name feeling oddly familiar as it came out of his throat.

"Yes, a crazy woman named Dahlia Gillespie used to live here with her daughter, years ago. And there was a fire one night. She probably started it herself. Involved in a cult, you know." the man looked at Travis with a smug, self-assured look of one who believes that they know everything. It was almost…familiar. "The daughter didn't make it out, and as you can see-" he gestured toward the house. "This place was been abandoned. No one touched it. Everyone has just ignored it, leaving it here."

"Years ago huh?" Travis repeated, looking back at the building. It sure looked that old…but then what had last night been? A dream? How had he wound up on the park bench?

Shaking his head, Travis turned away from the house to find the man smiling at him unsettlingly. It wasn't unhinged, like the woman from last night's, it was...just unnerving.

"You saw her, didn't you?" he asked in what was almost a delighted tone.

"Saw who?" Travis asked. He didn't really need to. But not asking would probably make the man think he was right.

"The girl. Seven years old, blue school uniform, black hair. You saw her, didn't you? She's probably lonely. Because of her mother, she had so few friends." he laughed. "Don't follow the dead, stranger. If you do, you won't be able to go back."

"I'll keep that in mind." Travis said, turning away.

At the end of the street though, for some reason, he couldn't help but look over his shoulder. Maybe he was expecting to see the house drop its abandoned look, and see the girl walk out.

But what he saw was the man with the glasses, staring up at the house with an expression that was not smug and was not full of grim delight. He looked merely…faintly…sad. Like someone who lost something a long time ago. He didn't notice Travis looking at him.

Travis shook his head. "Crazy." he muttered. Somehow, he didn't sound very convinced.

He had to get out of this place. He started walking again.

Where was this anyway? He'd seen the sign, driving past, right? It had said…it had said…

Silent Hill.

Nice name that. Sounded like something from an old horror movie. "House on Silent Hill."

Travis frowned. Or- now that he was thinking about it, it sounded familiar. Maybe he was thinking about something else?

But he knew he'd never seen a town with such empty streets before. And the mist that covered everything…or was it mist? Now and again, when he turned suddenly, Travis thought he caught the scent of smoke from the fire.

Travis snorted. He was thinking too much. He'd just had an odd dream, that had to be it. _But how did I end up on that park bench?_

Information board. That looked promising. A guide to the town, complete with map.

Crichton Street, that's where he was… This looked simple enough. If he went straight, he should be able to get back to his truck and finish the gig. With his little nap, he'd already fallen behind.

He tapped the map decidedly, then took on of the free copies (just in case, his glove compartment was full of just in case maps) and stepped back and turned to go, before stopping short.

The girl was standing there. Again, looking up at him like he was holding her favorite toy and she was asking for it back.

"You're the girl. The one from the fire." Travis said softly.

She didn't move, just kept looking at him, but somehow, her expression changed just a bit. Seemed slightly less passive.

"But that guy said you didn't make it out."

Now, she looked …like she was thinking about something.

Then she stepped closer.

Travis stood his ground, watching her. She didn't seem malicious, even if she was a rather creepy kid who was probably a ghost.

She stopped, so close that he could've touched her just by swinging his arms. And she gestured.

Travis blinked and looked at her before understanding and leaning over, offering her his ear.

She cupped her hands and whispered in his ear, in a familiar voice, a normal voice "Travis, I'm not dead. Help me."

He pulled back and looked at her.

With a pleading expression, she held up her hand to him. Mutely asking him, begging him to take it.

Travis looked down at her, at this tiny girl. Thoughts about possible and impossible seemed to fade away, and the only thing in the world was those big eyes, begging for help. _What am I afraid of? _

He reached out for her, and the tips of their fingers touched, just briefly, and the sirens began to blare in his skull again, and he was falling again but it felt like someone caught him and he had time to see the girl's face.

She was smiling, not creepily or serenely, or anything.

She looked happy. She looked gratefully. She was smiling at him as if he was the only thing in the world.

"Welcome back." she whispered.

(Pokes the subtle Fatal Frame 3 reference). Hee~. And I got to make a "House on Haunted Hill" reference too. Love that movie.

Although, unfortunately the mention of Shepherd's Glen does not mean Alex and company are going to be showing up in this, only a nod towards the fact that they exist. And that I love them, even if the game itself drives me to ranting. Actually, the same thing happens with Mother 3, although Mother 3 is so much better put together.

Also, reviews= motivation to post this faster. It will be finished sooner or later, because I don't like leaving things undone, but more reviews would mean I work on it more and finish it quicker.

Thank you for reading and reviewing Guest! And yep, Dean Koontz is the one who used that pen name- he used a whole bunch of other pen names for a while.


	4. Chapter 4

Once again, Travis woke up in an unfamiliar place.

There was an odd smell in the air, like blood and rust.

Travis sat up.

_ It looks almost like a school nurse's office. _Once the thought was formed in his head, he wasn't sure why. It could be the right answer though- it did have the seats near the door, the desk and the cabinets right in front of them- and there was a examination table underneath him, one that had lost most of its cushioning to being worn out-

But the walls were grey with age and spotted heavily with a rusty brown-red substance that Travis decided that he didn't want to think about too much. And the cabinets were all hanging open, some missing their doors entirely, none of their contents remaining- the floor was covered with ripped up papers and smashed bottles and some things he didn't even recognize, they were in such bad shape-

Travis automatically looked down at his boots and made sure they were still in good condition. He was glad he'd splurged just a bit on them and gotten the good ones.

There were only two intact pieces of furniture; the others were smashed or at least disfigured. There was the nurse's desk, covered with documents and bottles, and there was the table beneath him. Travis looked down and was relieved to see that it seemed like the cleanest thing in the room.

But what had happened here?

"Note to self," Travis muttered as he stood up, "don't go around touching ghosts. Or whatever Alessa is." he added, remembering that she'd said she wasn't dead.

Maybe he was dreaming. Travis chuckled. That'd be nice.

But he knew he wasn't dreaming. He couldn't ever remember his dreams clearly. Sometimes an image or two, or a tangle of words would imbed itself into his brain. But they were always disconnected- from each other, and from everything else too. This wasn't a dream.

But whatever the truth was, he didn't want to stay in this place.

"Let's find the way out." he muttered, casting one last glance over the room. It really had been trashed bad. There was even graffiti written across from where he was.

Curious, Travis stepped closer.

"Nurse Lisa is dreamy" read one.

Travis chuckled. Nice to see some things remained the same. And then he glanced at the other one and frowned.

"Burn the witch."

Odd. Not to mention disturbing. What kind of a child writes that on a wall?

Travis took a step back and looked at the damage again.

Well, it could've been done by former students, who had already graduated. That would explain it. Maybe. For the place to be this far gone, it had to have been abandoned for a while…

But it still disturbed Travis on some level he couldn't identify. He shook his head and began to leave the room, carefully stepping around the worst of the trash on the floor, before reaching the door and opening it-

And stopped.

There was Alessa, standing there, waiting for him, and holding a book in her arms.

Travis sucked in a breath before walking forward, quickly, but not too quickly. "Okay Alessa, what's going on?"

She looked up at him, and then down at the floor. "I can't get out. Not without you." and then she put the book down on the floor, looked up at him- meeting him in the eyes briefly before dashing off.

"Alessa!" he scooped the book off the floor as he ran off after her. He wanted answers and ghost or not, Alessa Gillespie was going to-

Travis skidded to a stop.

Who had told him that the girl's name was Alessa?

The woman at the fire hadn't told him.

The man with the glasses hadn't told him. He'd mentioned her last name, but not her first-

Alessa hadn't told him.

So how had he known?

A rush of voices.

_ "This is Alessa."_

_ "Be a dear and play with her, okay?"_

_ "Yes Momma."_

Travis removed his hands from his ears and looked around the room.

"This isn't funny."

No one laughed.

Travis sighed and glanced down at the book. A child's sketchbook. Little surprise there.

But it had a child's name on it, and the name was not Alessa Gillespie. It was Cheryl Mason.

Travis rested his forehead in his hand. "Why can't any of this make sense?" he looked around once more- stared in the direction that Alessa had run off in. The hallway was in pretty much the same shape as the room he'd just left behind- Travis looked at it only for a moment before saying "Well, as long as I'm trapped in your game of hide and seek anyway."

And he followed after, going at a jog, hoping he'd catch up soon- the rest of the school was like the nurse's office. Trashed, with questionable stains, graffiti- but he didn't stop to read these. One jumped out at him through. Written in large blue letters, it said "**Go home Travis**".

He had to admit, home sounded nice right now.

Travis pinched his nose and tried not to think of home- tried not to think of the real world- coffee, the road at night- he tried not to think of the house. The house that had been his grandparents' and now was his- the only home he could remember ever having.

Travis shook his head and started walking again. Just thinking about the things he wanted wouldn't get him anywhere. And even if he knew exactly how to get out of here, he wouldn't be able to take advantage of that until after he helped Alessa- not that he had any idea how he was going to help her, but he knew he couldn't- wouldn't- ignore her. Whatever was going on, Travis would find a way to help her.

That decision made- not that Travis had really been aware that he was making it until after he'd made it- his mind dragged itself back to his previous train of thought- and then to one of the other things he knew Dan and Laura worried about, even though they didn't bug him about it. He knew that he'd lived with his parents for a while after his mother had gotten out of the hospital. He knew that, but he didn't remember it, and despite what they said, it wasn't a big deal that he couldn't remember. It wasn't like he'd been a teenager or anything like that. He didn't really remember living with his grandparents before that, while she'd been in the hospital either, except for a vague fragmented memory here or there.

After his parents had died- and okay, maybe it was a little weird that he couldn't remember that- his grandparents had taken him in again and he lived with them until they died.

He tried to wrench his mind away from that- away from his grandparents- and started walking again- more huge letters in bright blue appeared on the walls of the hallway, but he carefully looked away from them.

But Travis couldn't deny the fact that he wished he could ask them for their advice- they were both very practical people though- even with their own eyes, they might not believe this.

The sigh that escaped from Travis was one of fondness. His grandparents had been good people. When he'd been a kid, they had been the one steady spot of hope in a universe reeling with chaos- the only people he could count on. One of the few things he remembered about his dad was how he'd never show up on time- and that was when he showed up at all.

In the cafeteria, all the tables were turned so that they were facing the middle of the room, where four cages were hung from the ceiling. Four people sized cages. And a wheelchair underneath them…

What was this stuff doing here?

Travis could sort of see a bunch of former students going crazy and tearing up the school- he wasn't too fond of his school memories either. But some of the objects…he couldn't understand how they'd found their way there. Where would someone even find cages like that? And why would anyone bother to lug them around and place them here?

The only way out of the lunchroom(other than the door he'd used to enter it) lead him to a pair of doors, which lead him outside, to the playground.

It actually looked worse than the rest of the school- the school had been trashed, but the playground was twisted- the bouncing animals looked like monsters from a child's nightmare, the swings were actual cages that groaned in the wind that felt like hot breath-

Travis straightened his shoulders and walked past them, heading straight for Alessa.

Alessa was sitting on top of the slide, staring up at the dark sky, as if she were searching for stars. There didn't seem to be any out though.

Travis blinked. Hadn't it been morning a short time ago?

"Do you know about changelings?" the girl asked softly.

"Nope, never heard of them." Travis said, walking closer. She wasn't running away this time…

"They're babies that the fairies leave behind when they steal human children. Fairy babies left to live among humans."

"Sounds sad. Why are you bringing it up?"

"I think we're changelings. You and me. Claudia and Vincent. Claudia sees things, and Vincent's weird, and you and me-" and she brought up her legs and hugged them. "You can do that thing with the mirrors, and me-they all say I'm a witch."

Travis remembered the graffiti in the nurse's office.

_ "Burn the witch!"_

"Sometimes I like to think about what might happen if we could find our way back to the place where we're supposed to be." the small girl continued. "Maybe back there, we're important people, and we'll be welcomed back. We're not wanted here…but maybe we're wanted there."

Travis smiled. Typical kid fantasy. "Look Alessa." he said softly, "for better or for worse, we're here now, so we gotta make the most of that. I know you're in trouble and I want to help you. But I can't help you if I don't know what the problem is."

She turned to look at him- met his eyes for the first time since he'd come out onto the playground.

"Travis, you're not there when the nightmares wake me up."

He opened his mouth to answer, but someone else beat him to it.

"I can't be there when you wake up, but if you call me, I'll come." a child's voice- a boy's- it came from behind him-

He wanted to turn and look, but his eyes wouldn't move from Alessa's who was smiling at him-no, not at him -the one behind him- but Travis was the one she was reaching for and- sirens in his ears and vision blurring- he stumbled forward, his fingers grabbing at the slide to steady himself and a feather light touch of warm fingers on his cheek.

After a few head splitting minutes, it began to fade away. And Travis straightened up.

The playground had changed.

Instead of looking mutated, it now looked normal, like any other playground you could find anywhere.

But there was a trail of ashes down the slide.

Travis took a step forward, and then looked down. In the ground at his feet, the words "look at the sketchbook" were written. Travis took it out and looked at it.

It looked the same. Still said Cheryl Mason.

Travis flipped it open. First was a bad drawing that Travis could only tell was meant to be a man by the fact that it was labeled "Daddy". And then-

Huh.

A map of the school. Travis raised one eyebrow as he studied it, half wishing he'd found it before.

One room was labeled "Don't go in". Interesting. And it didn't look like it led anywhere. Best to follow that advice then.

What else was in here?

…a hospital map? And there was writing on the bottom.

"Find Lisa. Lisa can help us."

Travis considered the last word for a moment. _There is no us._ He felt like saying that. Felt like shouting it, really.

But somehow, he couldn't. Regardless of whatever or not she was using him, she was a hurting child, a trapped child. She needed his help. And he had, after all, promised to save her.

Travis carefully tucked the sketchbook into his vest pocket, took off his cap, ran his hand through his hair and sighed.

"Okay." he replaced it and straightened up. "Let's go get some answers."

OoOoOo

Things weren't going smoothly for the Masons.

Other roads were blocked off too. They couldn't even go back the way they'd come. They had to go to Silent Hill.

And Harry was not happy.

"What's so bad about this place anyway?" Cheryl asked as they drove in. "It doesn't look so bad. A little empty maybe…"

"Yeah well, you know what people say about books and covers." Harry said as he looked around cautiously.

"Hey Dad? I've got worse news." and Cheryl pointed towards the fuel gauge.

Harry looked at it and swore under his breath.

"I guess we don't have a choice." and he pulled over into a nearby gas station.

"One other thing Dad. As long as we're here, I need to use the restroom."

Harry looked at her, and then understood. "Oh. Got your knife?"

Cheryl laughed. "Yes, you old worrywart."

"I just want you to be safe."

"I'll be fine Dad. It's just a trip to the restroom." Cheryl said as she slipped out of the car.

"I know." Harry said as he also got out. "I know."

Cheryl took a step before looking over her shoulder at him and smiling. "Worrywart old Dad, I love you too."

He smiled at her. "I know. I love you."

Cheryl entered the store, and looked around. Odd. It was completely empty. Not even a clerk.

Cheryl shrugged and entered the bathroom.

When she exited the stall to wash her hands, she stopped.

That hadn't been there when she'd come in the room. On the mirror right across from her, someone had scribbled some sort of weird magic-ish looking circle. Using a red color that resembled blood, of course.

"I didn't even hear them do it." Cheryl mused, stepping closer to examine it. It looked familiar. Had she seen it in one of those books she used to read? But wouldn't she remember a mark like this, which made her head hurt whenever she looked at it?

Cheryl shook her head and began washing her hands. Whatever it was, it didn't matter.

In a minute or so, she and her dad would be leaving town, and judging by her dad's reactions, they weren't ever going to be coming back.

Cheryl straightened up again- for a moment, studied herself in the mirror, as she dried her hands- wondering what she'd look like if she let her hair go back to its natural black and let it grow long- before dismissing it. She'd been dying her hair for years now- long enough that she'd had her dad help her the first time. But she liked her hair like this- simple, easy- fun. She thought it looked good on her too, even if it wasn't quite the elegant look she'd had in her dream.

Cheryl smiled at her reflection- winced a little as something- must be the angle of light or something like that- distorted it, making her smile look like something from a horror movie, abruptly reminding her that she didn't like mirrors.

Cheryl shook her head, finished and went over to open the door. But it wouldn't open.

She pounded it and slammed, but it wouldn't open.

And there was no one in the room with her, and there was no one in the store…Dad must be still outside, because if he heard her, he would be on the other side of the door, talking back to her-

Cheryl looked around again.

That window, over there…it was pretty big.

Cheryl grinned. _I'll come up from the back and scare Dad._

So she slid open the window and climbed out.

But there was a problem. Both ends of the alley were blocked. One by a dumpster and a lot of weird junk (including a wheelchair, of all things) and the other by a car that someone had actually driven into the ally, despite the fact that both sides of the car were scrapping the walls.

Cheryl groaned. Now what was she supposed to do? There was no way she was climbing over the garbage.

…there was another open window on the other side of the ally.

Here, Cheryl hesitated.

She walked as close as she could the end that her father was closest to, and called out. "Dad? Dad! Can you hear me?"

No answer.

She tried again, but still no response.

Cheryl groaned and walked back and crawled through the other window.

Once inside, she looked around. An ordinary looking white corridor. And a gurney shoved into a corner.

Was this place a hospital? That would explain the wheelchair outside.

Cheryl groaned. She hated hospitals. "At least I don't have to stay here." she muttered, and stepped forward.

OoOoOo

(Is happily humming as she finishes up the chapter.) Maybe I can actually get this done before February. That's what I'm hoping, since then I'll be going on a long trip and have no acess to the internet for I don't even know how long.


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